Alien Abduction: Incident in Riverdale
by Ashenri
Summary: Strange things begin to happen this chilly Thanksgiving evening in Riverdale. Veronica is the first to notice them, but will her friends believe her?
1. Signs

**Chapter One: Signs**

* * *

The leaves blew across the veranda, the wind whistling in droves, slamming the window coverings against the screens. Click, tap—her shoes clacked against the concrete—Betty Cooper hurried past the houses, her chin buried in her scarf, skin crawling with each passing gust. The forecast from the night prior had predicted scattered t-storms in the evening, but she had figured herself punctual enough to avoid them. In truth, while she wished to avoid the rain, part of her longed for it—to be drenched and taken aback by it all, as if it were an outward manifestation of her tribulations. There, she could scream, her sorrow like so many tiny, individual tears lost in the aquatic flurry that would beseech her. There, she could fade away, if for but a moment. There she would be away from a one Veronica Lodge, to whom's place of dwelling everyone was gathering.

Glancing up at the sky, she saw a shooting star, and she made a wish, closing her eyes—stopping in the darkness, sniffling as the feeling in the tip of her nose went away. A crackle from over the horizon caused her to jump—she began to widen her stride, checking her watch as she did. Five o'clock. _Already?_ It seemed just a moment ago it was four-thirty. Biting her bottom lip, she squinted her eyes, hunching forward as she pushed against the tumultuous wind blowing from the sea of darkness beyond her.

* * *

"Where is that Betty Cooper?" a one Veronica Lodge asked to herself, placing a coaster down on the coffee table adjacent.

"Probably scared off by the thunder, hiding under a rock. Typical prole," Cheryl said, an arm around her waist as she sipped some wine.

"You know, I don't recall inviting you, or bringing any wine up from the cellar for that matter," Veronica said, standing up.

"Now look, ladies, there's no need to fight," Archie said as he came into the room, a smirk creeping across his face.

"Oh, certainly not when _you're_ here." Cheryl wrapped an arm around the freckle-faced teen, shifting her eyes to her host.

Curling her upper lip in disgust, Veronica turned toward the kitchen. "It wouldn't be much of a fight, not with that confused cocktail of fabrics you call a dress."

"Why you..." Archie swallowed loudly as he turned Cheryl away from her wouldbe rival.

Opening the oven, Veronica poked the turkey with a thermometer, the heat running across her face, sending goosebumps down her thighs. Another hour she thought, shoving the tray back in as she closed the door. Sighing, she leaned over the sink, staring out the window. The sky was still clear, the stars glistening along the black velvet void above, like an open jewel case just out of reach. Placing her chin on her hand, she found her mind beginning to wander. Would it be so terrible if Archie chose Cheryl? Did it even matter at this point? Forever seventeen naught, she'd aged—they all had. Blinking, she noticed one of the stars moving, mechanically, in a stutter—down, right, gone. A chill traveled down her spine.

"Everything alright?" Chuck asked, glancing out the window.

"I think I might be hallucinating," she said, running her fingers through her bangs.

"Maybe you should go take a rest—you've been at it all day."

"Yeah—yeah, right, sure."

Quirking an eyebrow, he watched her leave the kitchen in a daze, once again turning his attention out the window. Shrugging, he followed suit.

Drooling on his collar, Jughead had long since passed out, deprived of any sugar to keep him awake. Peering in his direction, Veronica rubbed her eyebrows, tempted to wake him, lest his saliva laminate furniture worth more than his parents' cars. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she approached the front door. Fresh air would do her good—the house was stuffy, and her lower back was beginning to ache from cooking all day. Opening the door—her eyes widened and her head tilted back.

"Oh! Sorry I'm late, I just, I don't know, I got caught against the wind in the dark, and that can be pretty scary, haha," Betty said, rubbing the back of her head.

Blinking a couple of times, Veronica moved to the side, wetting her lips. "I see. Welcome."

"Eh? Are you feeling okay?" Betty asked, tilting her head to the side, placing her hand on her forehead.

"Yeah, just fine. I think I just need a little air, that's all." And with that, she brushed passed her out the door.

"Gee, what's up with her?" she asked herself.

"Isn't it obvious?" Cheryl said. " _Clearly_ she doesn't want you here—the less competition the better."

"And I suppose that goes double for you?"

Cheryl smirked and let out a haughty grunt of a laugh as she went back to the lounge, wrapping her arm around Archie's back. Knowing her intentions, it didn't bother her—she had steadily become immune to such juvenile theatrics. More important was getting warm she thought, taking off her jacket and sliding on her socks to the fireplace, thawing her hands.

"Woah is it hot in here all of a sudden, or is it just me?" Reggie said, feigning sincerity. "It's like we just got a second heater, and the dial cranked up to eleven!"

Betty rolled her eyes as she rubbed the bottom of her nose, not bothering to face him.

"Aye, what's the matter with you?"

"I'm just a little tired—it was a long walk from the library," she said, flashing a fake smile.

"Oh, that's right, you's got that report due after break, yeah?"

"Er, yeah—I didn't have a group, so it's more work for me."

"I find that hard to believe," he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

Hands outstretched toward the fireplace, she snickered, "And why's that?"

"The prettiest girl in Riverdale can't find a group for a measly old project? C'mon," he said, talking with his hands.

"Cut her some slack will ya?" Archie said, coming between the two. "Sometimes you get classes where you don't really know anyone."

"Right," she said, giggling.

* * *

Sitting on the porch swing, Veronica twirled her hair as she pulled her legs in, wrapping an arm around them. The breeze brushed against her cheeks, around her shoulders and through the back of her hair. Closing her eyes, she sighed, the heaviness in her chest beginning to disappear.

 _Fvoom!_ Her eyes sprung open, darting from left to right amidst a flash over the timberline. A sense of impending doom overtaking her, she rushed in from outside, rubbing her arms and knees together in a tremble, goosebumps permeating along her skin. _What was that?_ Sniffling, she locked the door behind her without turning around, glancing ahead of her. Betty and Archie were _awfully_ close to one another, so much that their elbows would rub against each other here and there. Exhaling a deep breath, she stammered toward them with a twitch in her lower back, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Taking a deep breath, she regained her composure with a scowl.

"Hey!" she said, a hand on her hip.

"Oh, hey Ronnie, what's up? You seem bothered!" Archie said, looking up at her furrowed brows.

"Didn't any of you see or hear that?" she said, misplacing her anger.

"No, I'm not sure what you're talking about," Archie said with a shrug.

"That flash—that explosion! I couldn't have been the only one!"

"Maybe _you are_ hallucinating," Chuck said as he came around, raising an eyebrow.

Right eyelid twitching upward, she raised her chin with a glower that contorted her soft features into those of a manic stranger to her friends. "Now you listen here-"

"What do you think you saw and heard?" Betty said, interjecting with a smile.

Veronica turned her attention away from Chuck, shoulders slumping. "Uh..." Her brows arched inward as her mouth ever so slightly gaped. "Well, I was relaxing on the porch, and then there was a thunderous boom, and what looked like an explosion off toward the neighbors' estate."

"You said it yourself! It was probably just a thunderstorm off in the distance. Riverdale's supposed to get a real pounding tonight, if ya know what I mean—heh." Reggie said, grabbing the air in a pelvic thrust.

"Eh."

"Reggie," Chuck said, rubbing his forehead.

"Well, in any case, he's probably right," Archie said, flashing a smile. "You've been cooking all day, why don't you take a rest?"

"Oh, you have? Why didn't you just have one of your gourmet chefs do all the work like usual?" Betty asked with widened eyes, cocking her head to the side.

"I wanted to do something nice," she said with a sigh. "Betty, be a dear would you? Check the food in about an hour or so. I think it would be best if I took a nap upstairs."

"Roger, roger!"

"Huh?"

"Er, Crunchatize me captain!"

"What?"

"Betty are you okay?"

"Ahoy Mateys?"

"Ugh. Someone wake me when it's ready," Veronica said, walking to the stairwell at the end of the hall.


	2. Silent Warnings

**Chapter One: Signs**

* * *

The leaves blew across the veranda, the wind whistling in droves, slamming the window coverings against the screens. Click, tap—her shoes clacked against the concrete—Betty Cooper hurried past the houses, her chin buried in her scarf, skin crawling with each passing gust. The forecast from the night prior had predicted scattered t-storms in the evening, but she had figured herself punctual enough to avoid them. In truth, while she wished to avoid the rain, part of her longed for it—to be drenched and taken aback by it all, as if it were an outward manifestation of her tribulations. There, she could scream, her sorrow like so many tiny, individual tears lost in the aquatic flurry that would beseech her. There, she could fade away, if for but a moment. There she would be away from a one Veronica Lodge, to whom's place of dwelling everyone was gathering.

Glancing up at the sky, she saw a shooting star, and she made a wish, closing her eyes—stopping in the darkness, sniffling as the feeling in the tip of her nose went away. A crackle from over the horizon caused her to jump—she began to widen her stride, checking her watch as she did. Five o'clock. _Already?_ It seemed just a moment ago it was four-thirty. Biting her bottom lip, she squinted her eyes, hunching forward as she pushed against the tumultuous wind blowing from the sea of darkness beyond her.

* * *

"Where is that Betty Cooper?" a one Veronica Lodge asked to herself, placing a coaster down on the coffee table adjacent.

"Probably scared off by the thunder, hiding under a rock. Typical prole," Cheryl said, an arm around her waist as she sipped some wine.

"You know, I don't recall inviting you, or bringing any wine up from the cellar for that matter," Veronica said, standing up.

"Now look, ladies, there's no need to fight," Archie said as he came into the room, a smirk creeping across his face.

"Oh, certainly not when _you're_ here." Cheryl wrapped an arm around the freckle-faced teen, shifting her eyes to her host.

Curling her upper lip in disgust, Veronica turned toward the kitchen. "It wouldn't be much of a fight, not with that confused cocktail of fabrics you call a dress."

"Why you..." Archie swallowed loudly as he turned Cheryl away from her wouldbe rival.

Opening the oven, Veronica poked the turkey with a thermometer, the heat running across her face, sending goosebumps down her thighs. Another hour she thought, shoving the tray back in as she closed the door. Sighing, she leaned over the sink, staring out the window. The sky was still clear, the stars glistening along the black velvet void above, like an open jewel case just out of reach. Placing her chin on her hand, she found her mind beginning to wander. Would it be so terrible if Archie chose Cheryl? Did it even matter at this point? Forever seventeen naught, she'd aged—they all had. Blinking, she noticed one of the stars moving, mechanically, in a stutter—down, right, gone. A chill traveled down her spine.

"Everything alright?" Chuck asked, glancing out the window.

"I think I might be hallucinating," she said, running her fingers through her bangs.

"Maybe you should go take a rest—you've been at it all day."

"Yeah—yeah, right, sure."

Quirking an eyebrow, he watched her leave the kitchen in a daze, once again turning his attention out the window. Shrugging, he followed suit.

Drooling on his collar, Jughead had long since passed out, deprived of any sugar to keep him awake. Peering in his direction, Veronica rubbed her eyebrows, tempted to wake him, lest his saliva laminate furniture worth more than his parents' cars. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she approached the front door. Fresh air would do her good—the house was stuffy, and her lower back was beginning to ache from cooking all day. Opening the door—her eyes widened and her head tilted back.

"Oh! Sorry I'm late, I just, I don't know, I got caught against the wind in the dark, and that can be pretty scary, haha," Betty said, rubbing the back of her head.

Blinking a couple of times, Veronica moved to the side, wetting her lips. "I see. Welcome."

"Eh? Are you feeling okay?" Betty asked, tilting her head to the side, placing her hand on her forehead.

"Yeah, just fine. I think I just need a little air, that's all." And with that, she brushed passed her out the door.

"Gee, what's up with her?" she asked herself.

"Isn't it obvious?" Cheryl said. " _Clearly_ she doesn't want you here—the less competition the better."

"And I suppose that goes double for you?"

Cheryl smirked and let out a haughty grunt of a laugh as she went back to the lounge, wrapping her arm around Archie's back. Knowing her intentions, it didn't bother her—she had steadily become immune to such juvenile theatrics. More important was getting warm she thought, taking off her jacket and sliding on her socks to the fireplace, thawing her hands.

"Woah is it hot in here all of a sudden, or is it just me?" Reggie said, feigning sincerity. "It's like we just got a second heater, and the dial cranked up to eleven!"

Betty rolled her eyes as she rubbed the bottom of her nose, not bothering to face him.

"Aye, what's the matter with you?"

"I'm just a little tired—it was a long walk from the library," she said, flashing a fake smile.

"Oh, that's right, you's got that report due after break, yeah?"

"Er, yeah—I didn't have a group, so it's more work for me."

"I find that hard to believe," he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

Hands outstretched toward the fireplace, she snickered, "And why's that?"

"The prettiest girl in Riverdale can't find a group for a measly old project? C'mon," he said, talking with his hands.

"Cut her some slack will ya?" Archie said, coming between the two. "Sometimes you get classes where you don't really know anyone."

"Right," she said, giggling.

* * *

Sitting on the porch swing, Veronica twirled her hair as she pulled her legs in, wrapping an arm around them. The breeze brushed against her cheeks, around her shoulders and through the back of her hair. Closing her eyes, she sighed, the heaviness in her chest beginning to disappear.

 _Fvoom!_ Her eyes sprung open, darting from left to right amidst a flash over the timberline. A sense of impending doom overtaking her, she rushed in from outside, rubbing her arms and knees together in a tremble, goosebumps permeating along her skin. _What was that?_ Sniffling, she locked the door behind her without turning around, glancing ahead of her. Betty and Archie were _awfully_ close to one another, so much that their elbows would rub against each other here and there. Exhaling a deep breath, she stammered toward them with a twitch in her lower back, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Taking a deep breath, she regained her composure with a scowl.

"Hey!" she said, a hand on her hip.

"Oh, hey Ronnie, what's up? You seem bothered!" Archie said, looking up at her furrowed brows.

"Didn't any of you see or hear that?" she said, misplacing her anger.

"No, I'm not sure what you're talking about," Archie said with a shrug.

"That flash—that explosion! I couldn't have been the only one!"

"Maybe _you are_ hallucinating," Chuck said as he came around, raising an eyebrow.

Right eyelid twitching upward, she raised her chin with a glower that contorted her soft features into those of a manic stranger to her friends. "Now you listen here-"

"What do you think you saw and heard?" Betty said, interjecting with a smile.

Veronica turned her attention away from Chuck, shoulders slumping. "Uh..." Her brows arched inward as her mouth ever so slightly gaped. "Well, I was relaxing on the porch, and then there was a thunderous boom, and what looked like an explosion off toward the neighbors' estate."

"You said it yourself! It was probably just a thunderstorm off in the distance. Riverdale's supposed to get a real pounding tonight, if ya know what I mean—heh." Reggie said, grabbing the air in a pelvic thrust.

"Eh."

"Reggie," Chuck said, rubbing his forehead.

"Well, in any case, he's probably right," Archie said, flashing a smile. "You've been cooking all day, why don't you take a rest?"

"Oh, you have? Why didn't you just have one of your gourmet chefs do all the work like usual?" Betty asked with widened eyes, cocking her head to the side.

"I wanted to do something nice," she said with a sigh. "Betty, be a dear would you? Check the food in about an hour or so. I think it would be best if I took a nap upstairs."

"Roger, roger!"

"Huh?"

"Er, Crunchatize me captain!"

"What?"

"Betty are you okay?"

"Ahoy Mateys?"

"Ugh. Someone wake me when it's ready," Veronica said, walking to the stairwell at the end of the hall.


	3. Altered

**Chapter Three: Altered**

* * *

Pulling the turkey out of the oven, Veronica bit her bottom lip, bumping the door with her hip. Sighing, she set it on a coaster, glancing to the window—the darkness glaring back at her, unsettling in its black tar static. Taking off her mitts, she began to set the elongated table that nearly stretched across the entirety of the dining room, which itself was larger than most people's homes. Cranberry sauce, candied yams, stuffing—the whole nine yards—surrounded the turkey in the middle. Setting the last plate, she smiled, licking her upper lip.

Walking to the doorway, she called everyone to eat, wiping her hands on her apron.

"About time," Judghead said, yawning.

"I'll say," Archie said.

"Wow, this looks like a feast fit for a royalty..." Betty said, turning to Veronica. "Did you have Smithers set the table, or did you do that yourself too?"

"It was the most laborious activity I've _ever_ subjected myself to," Veronica said, leaning and sliding down the door frame.

Snickering, the two walked to the table. As veronica grabbed a knife to cut the turkey, the lights began to flicker, cutting out completely after a few seconds.

"What's going on?" Reggie yelled, scooting his chair back.

"I'm not sure! Let me find some candles!" Veronica said. "Smithers has a candelabra he used to use somewhere around here."

Stumbling in the dark, she reached out, grazing the wall with the tips of her fingers. She felt around embossed carvings as if her life depended on it, shivers rhythmically twisting along her backside. Holding her breath, she took a long stride down the hallway until her hand whacked a doorknob. Cringing with a shake, she reached for the middle rack, feeling around until she found the candelabra. Not bothering to close the door, she sprinted back to the kitchen, heaving from the short burst of energy.

"I found it, does anyone have-"

"I do," Jughead said, holding a light.

"Why do you-"

"You never know when a burger might be a tad bit undercooked," he said, Veronica leaning the candle wicks into the light.

"Is this all we have? It's like an abyss in here! I can't see my fingers in front of my face," Archie said, tripping over a chair, planting head first into the turkey.

"Aw man, way to go Andrews," Reggie said, stepping away.

Standing up, he slid backwards, somehow catching his shoe on the tablecloth, flipping him upside down onto the cranberry sauce. Shifting his weight, he pressed his foot to the chair behind, flipping it over, knocking a painting adjacent over. Grunting, he took a step back, rubbing his head.

"Well, there goes dinner," Moose said.

"Speak for yourself," Jughead said, making his plate.

Snarling, Veronica rubbed her temple, opening her eyes to a flash of light that lit the entire room. " _That_ was lightning," she said.

"Someone should check the breaker," Jughead said, forking a hunk of turkey.

"I'll do it," Veronica said. "I'll just have to grab a flashlight."

"If you have flashlights, why are using that old thing?" Reggie asked.

"I wouldn't be able to see to get to the basement without it!"

"So we're just gonna sit here in the dark while you?"

"You know, you don't _have to_ wait here," she said, beginning to walk away.

"Wait! I'll come with you!" Betty said, running toward her.

Smirking, she stopped for a moment as Betty caught up, thunder crashing in the background, rattling the house, as if the roof were being used as a cymbal in heavy metal jam session—the boys' voices beginning to thin the farther they traveled down the seemingly never-ending hallway. "How can you eat after Andrews' molested the food?"

"Why do you keep the flashlights downstairs?" Betty asked, the two rounding a bend.

"Well, how often does this even happen?"

"Good point, but don't you guys have a backup generator?"

"Yeah, which makes this even more bizarre," she said, grabbing the railing, descending the triple flight of stairs.

"Isn't the breaker in the basement?"

"No—it's outside."

"Oh, I see. I guess the lightning hit something-"

"It didn't," Veronica said, furrowing her brows.

"How do you know?"

"Did you see a flash of lightning before or after the lights went out, Betty?"

"Well, I mean-"

"Something bad's in the works," she said, turning down a narrow, curvy hallway.

Silently gulping, Betty nodded, the two stopping at an intersection of hallways.

"This is a _really_ creepy basement, Ronnie."

"You get used to it," she said, turning to the left, opening a metal storage cabinet. "Here." Veronica tossed a flashlight to her sporty blonde doppelganger.

* * *

Speeding their strides along, the girls traversed the twisting stone pathways until they reached hardwood and finally, carpet. Creaking behind and above, the duo jogged up the stairs, slamming the door behind them. Wiping sweat from her backside, Veronica took a deep breath, bumping the closet door she'd taken the candelabra from.

"Dammit."

"What's wrong?" Betty asked.

"I left the candelabra downstairs."

"Ugh, let's-"

"The breaker first."

"Mmm, yeah, right," she said, licking her bottom lip, hustling to the dining room.

"So I told her, hey baby, if you're looking for a good time..." Reggie said, turning away as he heard footsteps enter the kitchen, a light flashing past his eyes. "'Bout time."

"Oh, be quiet," Betty said.

"We didn't have enough flashlights for everyone, so I grabbed two lanterns," Veronica said, handing one to Moose and Chuck. "Alright, now for the breaker."

"Where is it?" Reggie asked.

"Outside."

"Hold on a second," Archie said, grabbing Veronica's arm. "You're not going out there alone, are you?"

"I'm going with her," Betty said, waving her flashlight in Archie's face, causing him to flinch.

"So am I," Archie said, rounding the table.

"Count me out," Jughead said, downing a ladle of gravy.

"I'll pass," Reggie said, sitting back in his chair.

Shrugging, the trio left their friends, grabbing their coats off the rack and a couple umbrellas. Opening the door, they stepped onto the porch, the dripping rain and petrichor enveloping Veronica—her shoulders relaxing as she walked down the steps.

"So uh, Ronnie," Archie said, lengthening his stride to catch up.

"Yes," she answered, sticking her nose in the air.

"I was thinking that maybe tonight we could-"

"Shove it gingerlocks," she said, sticking her nose in the air, jetting ahead of him.

"What's gotten into her?" he said under his breath, stopping for a moment.

"Not the time," Betty said, jogging to catch up.

Shrugging, he followed in suit.

* * *

"Oh my god!" Veronica yelled, Betty and Archie scurrying around the corner, the rain tapping their umbrellas.

"What is it?" Archie asked, bending in closer.

"The circuit breaker's completely fried! It's-"

"Lightning probab-"

"No, Archie—lightning _did not_ hit the circuit breaker," Betty said, moving closer to inspect it.

Veronica felt a wave of relief amidst the trepidation spawned by the confirmation of her theory. Someone was backing her up—she wasn't crazy. And it was someone that's had her back throughout the night, giving her the benefit of the doubt, always listening to what she has to say, never talking over her—or treating her with disrespect.

"The entire thing is turned to ash…" Betty said, touching it, flinching as the top left corner crumbled.

"What causes… _this_?" Archie asked, leaning in and poking it.

"Good question," Betty said, moving her flashlight around building. "What is this building, Ron?"

"It's our primary garage."

"How many do you have?" Archie asked, shining his light in her eyes.

"Three or four—I don't remember," she answered, moving a hand in front of her eyes. "The generator should be in this one though."

Opening the side door with a key, the trio flashed their lights in different directions. A mixture of burnt rubber electrical fire blasted them in the face as they stepped in.

"It's turned to ash just like the breaker," Veronica said, kneeling down, flashing her light to the generator in the distance.

"Hey, what's that?" Archie asked, poking his head out in the rain.

"It looks like a transformer blew," Betty said, stepping out.

"Well, only one thing to do next," Veronica said, closing the door behind her.


End file.
